Caring
by Bang
Summary: *Someone* has pushed everyone away to make them stop caring. Why? Rated PG-13 for naughty words. R&R please! Flames welcome!


Yay me! This is my first fic on FFN! Hope y'all enjoy it! It's pretty dark, and pretty angsty, and I   
leave a few things unanswered, but I don't think it sux too much. This was written for Chyna   
Rose's contest.  
  
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Digimon. Don't sue me, I'm too young to spend all my time in court.  
  
  
Caring  
By: ~*!Bang!*~  
  
  
Her poor body, bruised and beaten, lay in a mangled heap in a corner of the darkened   
apartment. She tried to move, but her back pained, so she decided to lie there a bit longer; even if   
it meant that he might come back and find her there. It was a risk she had to take. She wasn't   
even sure if she would manage to crawl, anyway.  
  
Well, at least she had gotten her wish. Everybody had stopped pretending to care about   
her. It was easier that way.  
  
All the questions. She shook her head. They were only faking like they gave a damn   
about her. They only asked about the bruises because society demanded it of them. They didn't   
actually care. It was better now that they'd stopped.  
  
But, then again, how could they care? She hadn't exactly given them a reason to. The   
memories came flooding back to her, and she was too weak to push them away this time.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"Sora? We're all getting really worried about you," Tai and the others had caught up with   
her after school. "You have all those bruises, what's up?"  
  
"Leave me the f*** alone! I don't need any of you, and I especially don't need this! Stay   
the hell away!" she had screamed at them, before running towards her apartment building.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
The pain. It was coming back. It numbed after the initial blows, but it always came back.   
Damn. She should have tried to move sooner. Now how was she supposed to manage it?  
  
She struggled to raise herself, but she felt a wave of excruciating pain, and stopped. At   
least one of her ribs must have been broken. Well, that wasn't the worst he had done. There was   
that time in ninth grade-  
  
"Stop thinking," she whispered to herself, tears forming in her eyes. "Just stop thinking."  
  
Even though Sora had promised herself she would never do it again, she began crying   
uncontrollably. Why couldn't she stop? She had to stop! She had to get up. What if he cam back   
and found her..?  
  
"Don't think!" Sora admonished herself once more.   
At least there were no more questions. Questions made it all real. She could wake up   
tomorrow and tell herself it was a dream. None of this would be real unless someone asked about   
the bumps, bruises, or cuts. Now that everyone had stopped caring, the pain would be easier. She   
knew it would.   
  
Still the tears kept coming. She was shaking now. He couldn't find her like this. He said   
he didn't want a cry-baby for a daughter.  
  
He didn't care. Not her father. Her mother had given up on her years ago. She didn't care   
anymore, either. Her friends… what friends? Sora had made them stop caring. And of course   
Biyomon would have forgotten about her for sure by now.  
  
The emotional pain was almost worse than the physical pain. Why? If no one cared, the   
questions stopped. The questions were what made everything so bad. Everything should start   
getting better now that she was alone.  
  
The key was turning in the lock. He was coming back! Trying to ignore the pain, Sora got   
on her hands and knees and began to crawl out of the room. Too late.  
  
"Bitch!" her father yelled as he stormed into the room. "What the hell are you still doing   
here?!"  
  
"I-I'm sorry, Daddy," she stammered, hardly able to control her fear.  
  
"Don't go making excuses!" he hit her several times in the face, once near the temple.   
Sora could hardly see straight.  
  
"P-please, D-d-daddy!" she screamed, begging for him to stop.  
  
"I won't have any whiney, cry-babies in this house!"  
  
Sora felt extreme pain as her body was slammed into the wall. Then her head smacked in   
to a coffee table, and it all went black.  
  
It took three days before she was reported missing. But someone missed her. Maybe she   
didn't make everyone stop caring afterall.  
  
  
THE END  
  
Soooo…. Wha'd'ya think? I'd love to get comments. So, read & review, and if you really want   
to, you can e-mail me at kitcat_46@hotmail.com. Chow!   



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